


catatonic lover boy

by twist_and_ouch



Category: Pink Floyd
Genre: 1960s homophobia doe, Disassociation, Established Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Roger masturbates to Syd, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:35:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29529273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twist_and_ouch/pseuds/twist_and_ouch
Summary: Syd Barrett and his lover, Roger Waters, decide to buy a cheap hotel room and have unusual sex. Upon entering their room, however, Syd enters a catatonic state, and Roger has to deal with both Syd and his own horniness.
Relationships: Syd Barrett/Roger Waters
Kudos: 3





	catatonic lover boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy <3

Two men burst into a hotel room, the sound of skin rubbing against skin filling the small space, which could only fit a bed, a small television stand, and a bedside table. Their hands eagerly explored each other, palms rolling down both sides and arms, back up to shoulders, and then down to thighs and asses. Frantically, their mouths moved against each other with no rhyme nor reason. While their tongues and fingers explored and took in each other’s body, each man let out a hum of appreciation for the other. The hotel room was chilly - it couldn’t be above 65 degrees - but the body warmth of both Syd and Roger together created something beautiful and warm. Desire leaked out of every pore in their body as they groped the opposite’s body, touch ill foreign to both musicians, as well as the shuffling of feet, the sound of skin to skin contact, and the horribly erotic sound of Roger’s submissive moans. 

Syd slammed the door behind him once he and his lover’s bodies were out of the doorway. A tacky painting located next to the door shook as the door violently collided with the wall; Roger would tell you that the same thing was going to happen with him and Syd. Only this time was different- Roger Waters prided himself on his dominance over just about anyone, especially his special pillow princess, Syd Barrett. His dominance was truly a façade, though, and Syd could see right through his rough and commanding frontage. In bed, the two men had decided that nothing was off-limits until deemed ill pleasant or just generally foul. Through this method, the two had explored quite the arrangement of sexual fantasies and practices, driving deep into their unnatural desires to fuck each other senseless. 

This time was different, because Syd had convinced Roger to let him be on top. He was adamant, fully prepared to take care of the desperate needs of Roger- Roger, on the other hand, had deemed Syd unfit. It wasn’t fair, he knew, to him OR his beloved. The raw thought of Roger taking Syd up the ass while his name rolled off of his tongue like honey was enough to make both men combust- Syd could probably even sit on his cloud, high above the rest of the world, and put his erotic feelings for Roger into the form of a song. His lover claimed his gift was undeniable and unnatural; Syd could pull words out of the sky and put them onto paper, like a gift from the clouds to the Earth, through the use of words. Syd had played every card in his book- he begged, pleaded, to Roger for weeks, just for one chance to please him. The man promised to make his lover feel as good as he could make him feel, if not better. One chance was all he needed; to hear Roger repeat Syd’s name like a mantra while he filled him would be enough to last him a lifetime. After two weeks of despaired pleading from his gorgeous lover, Roger decided to take Syd up on his offer. He’d decided that, after an exorbitant date, full of costly alcohol and a five course meal, the two would rent a cheap hotel room and fuck like rabbits until the sun showed it’s radiant face- though, there was no promising that Syd would stop ravishing his boyfriend-fuck-toy once the early morning light shone through the plastic blinds of the hotel room. Syd could hardly wait; throughout their whole dinner date, images of Roger’s ass tight around his own cock danced across his mind, nearly salivating over his food- which, he had to admit, was subpar. Roger bounced his leg unsteadily, groping the inside of Syd’s thigh. God, he’d never taken it up the ass before- he’d given yet never received, but he trusted the safety of his ass in the hands of his Syd. He’d be fucked out and well spent by morning.

Now, in the hotel room, Roger’s apprehensiveness was now replaced with horniness and the extreme necessity of Syd’s hard cock in his asshole. He moaned into the foul-sounding kiss his lover so graciously supplied him with, needy whines spilling out of his own mouth and into the other’s. Syd smiled into the kiss, tilting his head and deepening it until Roger had to crane his neck. Both men paused where they were standing to shift their body weight, or, to tease each other before they found themselves on the dirty hotel room bed. Syd’s leg propped up so that his thigh was accessible for his boyfriend, and Roger grinded down onto it, his erect cock rubbing against the inside of his trousers. 

“Fuck! S.. Syd,” Roger breathed, “I want you inside of me..” he took the other’s hand and guided it back, until it was resting on his ass cheek. He moaned, arching into the touch.

“Don’t be sucha whiny little floosy now, Georgie. You were so anxious back at tha restaurant.. why the sudden change in heart?” The room began to cool while the men were separated.

“I didn’t.. I didn’t want people to know..”

“Know what?” Syd demanded, lifting his thigh higher so that the taller man could get some friction through his trousers.

“To know that..! Fuck, Syd, lemmee speak..” adrenaline began coursing through the veins of Roger as he began to get the jist of what Syd was expecting him to say. “I didn’t want people to know tha.. ah, that I’m a queer!!”

Syd cooed, “it’s not very polite to be so homophobic, Georgie. ‘Specially before you get your ass stretched and fucked.”

Roger had thought he’d never see a side of Syd that was so rough, or dominant.. not that he was complaining in the slightest. How could his lover be so hot? He knew that Syd got off on their secretive lifestyle, considering it was the sixties.. being gay was typically frowned upon. Numerous times had he mentioned trying out exhibitionism- but Roger had always turned him down. Why would he want to be jailed just for a quick fuck-n-cum in the local theater?

“Syd, please undress me and fuck me.. make me yours like you so desperately pleaded for a few days ago..!” Roger himself was shocked at such entreaties that were spilling out of his mouth. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be the only thing in his mouth in the next fifteen minutes.

“Syd?” He was not always fully there; Syd could oftentimes be found staring off into nothing for no particular reason. At least, he thought it was nothing. He tended to tense and focus on the woodwork of a room, rather than reply to the conversation he was enthralled in meer seconds prior. Roger could not blame him in the slightest- he was probably stoned, or something. No underlying causes, right? Still, he stared off, neglecting the boners of both himself and his lover.

“Love, no.. no, not again, please respond..” Roger was quick to blame Syd’s lack of consciousness on his incessant horniness and begging that had taken place seconds ago. _God, George, see what you’ve done? You’ve broken your fucking boyfriend, you stupid fucking cunt bag._

“I miss you..” _does he really miss you? Get rid of the boner, it’s tacky._

His eyes looked dead, his hand still gripped Roger’s back end, though it faltered slightly. Syd’s hands retracted away from his boyfriend so that they were placed firmly at his side. His love would be gone for a while, Roger knew, though he was unsure of how he was to get his love out of the hotel in the morning, in his catatonic state. He could feel the tent in his pants begin to become looser, as if it never existed at all. This happened so often, drug use was the only thing Roger knew to blame. There was certainly no other reasoning to the sudden decline in Syd’s awareness, none that he or Syd could think of. Though Syd never knew what happened once he came around.

_Awful, roger, you’re just awful. Why do you let him do the things he does if it’s causing him to decline?_

Roger felt like a dog that had just been kicked in the balls, leaving him ill and grossed-out. His erection had not yet fully dissolved when he began picturing what had happened before his Syd fell into a state of perpetual nothingness- he wasn’t seriously planning on jerking off to wash the feeling of horniness or guilt away, was he? No, he couldn’t. One, he’d nothing to jerk off to. And second.. _what the fuck is wrong with you?_ His mind screeched at him before he could make a sound argument. Syd wasn’t there, and, technically, it’s what he wanted..

After thinking it over for some time, Syd’s body was carefully sat on a plastic ‘chair’ in front of the hotel room bed, where it sat, propped up against the back. His legs were laid out in front of him, arms and hands dangling toward the ground because gravity had done her gorgeous job. His eyes were open, glossier and darker than ever, with a slight hint of nothingness. The man’s facial expression read “dead, yet alive, full of nothingness and meaning.” Sadly, his mouth followed the curvature of a frown.

Syd’s lover sat in front of him, trousers and belt buckles at the knee, leaning back and digging his palms into the bed. Totally spent, basking in the coolness of Syd’s dead glare, his look of nothingness. All guilt had been washed away from Roger’s consciousness as his right hand jerked off his cock, the other gripping at the gummy bed sheets. A series of shivers ran up his back from the base of his spine once he began to get close, a knot forming in his core that he knew could only be relieved by cumming to the sight of his catatonic lover. As Roger got closer to his release, he decided to spare himself the embarrassment of moaning his name, as cum landed in small heaps on his own stomach. One, two, three, four more strokes of his cock until the sensation became uncomfortable. Long legs extending over the side of the bed, fingers still gripping the bed sheets, hand still on cock, pants still around ankles, and lover boy still dissolved.


End file.
